


Early Bird Special

by Rixxy8173571m3W1p3



Series: The Random Doofus Rick Tales [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blushing, Dessert & Sweets, Dinner, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Gift Fic, Hugs, Notepads & Notebooks, Origami, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Requited Unrequited Love, Restaurants, Sharing a Table, napkins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:38:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3/pseuds/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3
Summary: In this fic, the reader dines with a familiar old man





	1. Seasonal Menu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hoodoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/gifts).



Your date was thirty minutes late, and counting. Perhaps he got one look at you and decided to turn the other way. It wasn't that unusual, you've done it a few times, though never out of meanness. Oh well, his loss, at least you weren't going to waste another evening with random chit chat. Still, it meant another dinner alone.

You didn't mind that you were going to eat alone, you did it all the time, and there was nothing wrong about it, but it was nice to have someone to talk to from time to time, especially if you two shared a meaningful conversation. Hmm, they still went by the winter menu. Page after page, it was still the same seasonal specials, a few with minor variations, but all the same. If you would have gone to that trendy place down the street, there would have been more variation, but the wait staff there were worse then this place, and you would have been rushed to finish your meal.

Why you bothered with blind dates, same old food, or eating at family restaurants? Well, it was a way to pass the time.

You'd say it was the novelty of eating at a family restaurant. To have wait staff dote on you, with all their charm, and half hearted smiles, sprinkling pretty words like table salt, only to keep you interested long enough to take your order. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, which gave you nostalgia, or it was a world away from home. Watching the seniors eat their early bird specials, parents with their families, or the fact they played the best of 50s to 80s music selections which made you dance in your seat. 

Even so, you never stayed long enough for dessert, except for that one time a few months ago. No, dessert wasn't nice unless you had someone to share it with, and you'd really feel lame with your chocolate malt. Hmm, chocolate malts were a bit old fashioned, but perhaps that was half of its charm. And like this place, it was a rare comfort.

Tonight, possibly because it was close to the holidays, every table was occupied. Which meant, there were a few people who had to wait to be seated. At the front of the line, you recognized the older man you had seen while eating here a few times. You didn't know much about him except for what he looked like, and that he tried a different dessert everytime, while writing down notes.

You waved at the waitress, your annoyance growing everytime she ignored you to serve someone else. The next server who crossed your path, you weren't going to let pass. “Excuse me?”

“Yes ma'am?” 

“You see that older gentlemen over there? If it's alright, could you ask him if he'd like to sit here? I wouldn't mind, seeing as I'm not expecting anyone.”

When the server passed on this information, he shot a quick glance at you, then back at the server. It was amusing to watch as he wrung his hands, unsure of whether or not you were serious or if this was a joke. You smiled, hoping this would ease him a bit. When he didn't move, you walked over, and looked him straight in the eyes. “You don't really know me, and I know it might seem strange, but I couldn't help but notice you were waiting and I wanted to know if you'd like to join me at my table. We don't have to talk if you don't want to, but if you're as hungry as I am, then you're more than welcome to join me.”

“I-I-I don't know,” he stammered. “you - you want me t-t-to sit with y-y-you?”

“Sure, why not?”

He searched you, and with raised brow, asked. “Are y-y-you sure?”

The head waitress was beginning to lose her patience, but you flashed her a look. You could tell it made him anxious, and a guy at the end of the line offered to take up your offer, but you ignored him. If you weren't sure before, you definitely were now. “Yes, and I promise if at anytime I've annoyed you, then I'll pay for your meal. What do you have to lose?”

 


	2. A View Of The River

While internally, he might have searched for reasons to say no, he followed. Up close, he was thinner than you thought, and much taller. Why, he was wiry, that bowl cut unfashionable, and the lab coat screamed pharmacist. As always, he went straight to dessert, and you decided to just get a drink. With the way waitresses had been ignoring you in favor of other, bigger spenders, it was possible that neither of you would get served until halfway into the evening. 

After a few awkward minutes, you wondered if whether you should leave, or try to make small talk with this nervous old man. Why, you wondered how he didn't shiver right out of his skin. You weren't one to make small talk, let alone make eye contact, but his contagious smile kept your attention, and he was thankful, even if nervous. “You didn't - you didn't have to do this, I ugh - I could have w-w-waited.”

“Really it's fine,” you sighed. “besides I'm taking up a whole booth, while there are people still waiting.”

“Y-y-you're a-a nice person. I um….thank you, I - I ugh really appreciate it.”

“You're very welcome.”

He calmed a little, and sat a little straighter; you'd say this was progress. He was someone you felt like you knew. Maybe he just had one of those faces. It's funny, how if you see someone enough, they seem less like a stranger, and more like a distant acquaintance. He was neither of those things, but it was still unclear. From his mannerisms, and soft words, you took him as a careful, but kindly man, who tried to avoid conflict.

“So, what do I call you? I know you have a name.”

“Gosh, I'm ugh - I'm sorry, I-I-I-I-I haven't introduced myself. I'm Rick.”

“It's nice to meet you Rick, I'm,” you winked. “I'm a stranger.”

He seemed to understand your caution, and nonetheless held out his hand to shake yours. Again, you didn't normally do this, but you accepted his outstretched hand, and gave it a polite shake. “It's very nice t-t-to meet you too.”

“You know, there's nothing to be nervous about, it's not like this is an interview.”

Sheepish, he scratched the back of his neck. “I-I-I'm sorry, I don't - I don't normally do this.”

“It's okay, I've been there a few times, especially during my last couple of dates. You just have to go with it, you know?”

“I," he paused, ruminating on what he would say. “I've seen you a-a few times, you - you always seem kind of distracted.”

“Oh.”

He took your surprise as displeasure. Immediately, he regretted saying this. “N-n-no, I-I-I-I didn't mean to say that.”

Amidst the noise of crying babies, cutlery, and the cold temperature, you hadn't heard a truer statement. “How observant of you. Well, I guess I usually am, but I don't think that's going to be an issue today. Don't worry, there's nothing to be sorry about.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzed. It might have been your sister, or your missing date, but whoever it was that happened to be calling, you weren't in the mood for answering.

* * *

"This place is nice isn't it?” 

If he meant that the place looked like it hadn't gotten a face lift since the 80s, then oh yeah, it was nice. “What do you like about it?” 

“The placement mats have a - have a map t-t-to treasure island, and um… the staff is really nice. The music is not t-t-to bad either, and I-I almost - almost always get t-t-to sit over there.”

Right next to the window, furthest to the back, was a wobbly, two person table. Located close to the kitchen doors, it was considered an undesirable spot, but it offered the best view of the river. Perhaps, that was why it was his favorite. You weren't sure, but you have had the opportunity to sit there once, months ago, and had a lovely time watching ducks swim by, drinking an extra large chocolate malt. So maybe, it was not as undesirable a spot as you thought. “I bet it's peaceful back there.” you replied.

With a toothy grin, he smiled. “It is, but it's - well I'm happy t-t-to try something different.”

You were too, oddly enough. With his enthusiasm over small, everyday things, it made you wonder how the world was through his eyes.

“Rick, seeing as it's busy, and your dessert might take a while to get here, we might as well make ourselves comfortable. So,” you leaned forward.” what do you do?”

“I um - do y-y-y-you really want to know?”

You shrugged. “Only if you're willing to tell me. ”

You weren't sure what it was about him, but you were intrigued. As awkward as it was to listen to his stuttering, you soon forgot about it, and lost yourself to his calm words, quiet intelligence, and animated gestures.


	3. Your Name And Origami

From the table napkins, Rick had folded a swan and a boat, and guided you on how to do it. You laughed when you ended up with a hat instead of a swan, and he congratulated you when you managed to make a bird of sorts. You did find it strange, that a man of his intelligence would find enjoyment in origami, but then again, all your preconceived ideas were being proven wrong. By yourselves, you two were having fun like a group of kids playing with napkins, solving the puzzle on the placement map, and having stimulating conversation. There were many things he'd said that you didn't quite understand, but it was delightful to watch as his eyes lit up, and his whole body engaged in his expressions.

Every so often, when other patrons would look your way to see what all the noise was about, you'd bite your lip to stifle your laughter, and would lightly touch his hand to quiet him. Surely enough, this would work, but not in the way you had intended. With widened eyes, and burning cheeks, he'd avoid your gaze for a while until his face cooled down. You've never had a guy blush for you before; it was endearing.

Oh, but having discovered this weakness you couldn't help yourself. It was adorable, and through the course of your conversation, you found reasons to touch him, only to excite that blush. Whether or not he found offense, he did not say, but it was deliciously amusing. You liked him, he made it easy to like him, but that was crazy, wasn't it? He was seventy years old, and you were less than half his age.

What were you thinking?

What had started as a simple offer, had left you crushing hard, on a kind, gentle, older man who probably thought of you as silly young women, with nothing else to do, but prey on unsuspecting men. Damn it. Even so, you tried to focus on the positives, which were teasing, and listening to him. After a particular story in which he told about his begonias, he asked. “Do y-y-you…..n-never mind.”

“What? What is it?”

“Sometimes I,” he shrugged. “I ugh - I don't know. I-I wonder about my life. If I've - if I've done enough.”

From what you gleaned from your conversation, you doubted he had ever not done enough. “You're a good guy Rick, I think you've done great. Also, I think I know what you mean. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave?”

“Y-y-you - you don't have to figure it all out right now, because y-y-you still have the rest of your life ahead of you.”

“Hmm, I guess so. I just hate this idea that by your early twenties you're supposed to have it all together. I think I'm doing pretty well, I know I could do better, but I…I don't know.”

“I think if y-y-you keep doing what you're doing, you're - you're going t-t-to be just fine.”

“Thank you, I really hope that's true.”

“You know, as humans w-w-we’re probably - we’re probably always going to wonder, t-t-to be curious, but trying t-t-to figure things out is half the adventure.”

For a few moments, he just stared at you, as though there was an understanding. For now, everything was going to be alright, for now it's was all going to be alright.

* * *

Next to the salt and pepper shakers, was that mysterious notepad you had always wondered about. Usually, he would look at the window and write, without even bothering to look down at the paper. You'd say it was a learned talent. Then, once he was satisfied he would leave, going left, then straight out of the side door. You had tried to pay no mind to his notepad and pens, but curiosity got the best of you. “Rick, I'm sorry if this is too personal, but what is it you write about?”

“Y-y-you mean this?”

“Yeah.”

A bit sheepish, he lifted the hardcover, and showed you the list of desserts he had tried, ranking them by price and yummy factor. “I um - I-I-I-I-I mostly do it for fun, but I - I like t-to pretend I'm a judge on a baking show, trying all sorts - tasting delicious desserts.”

You flipped through the pages of extensive notes, surprised by the lists of ingredients, and small drawings. “Wow, you've tried all of these? I would have never guessed, seeing as you've managed to keep your figure. Where does it all go?”

Rick bit his lip, unsure of how to answer. You had seen guys do this in the past, usually when they were trying to be seductive, or coy, but on him it was kind of sweet. It must have been more out of habit, for what you had seen and heard for the last hour had given you the impression that he was bit of a dork; in the best of terms of course.

“Hmm, let me think...you….. Oh, I know,” you giggled. “I bet most of it goes straight into your pockets for safe keeping.”

At this, he let out a full on belly laugh. “Hohoho, not - not really.”

“Yeah, well it has to go somewhere.”

“Into m-m-my gastrointestinal system.”

“Your what?”

“M-my stomach.”

When his dessert finally came, his toothy smile made you giggle. Rick was a guy who wore his heart in his sleeve; it was refreshing.

* * *

“So, what happens when you finish trying all the desserts they offer here?”

His smile disappeared. “I,” he sighed. “I don't like to think about it.”

“Why?”

He stirred a little more sugar into his coffee. “It ugh - coming here gives me something t-t-to do, and I - I'm really fond of this place. It's not easy t-t-to find a place that suits ya.”

You played around with a straw wrapper, balling it up, and moving it around in your hands. “You can still come here, and you could….you could try the meals.”

“That's true, but it's - it w-w-wouldn't be the same. Eating dinner is something people do with their,” he paused, looking around at the various families, and couples. “with their family.”

You didn't like the idea of not seeing him anymore. By far, his company had been better than the last few dates you've had. Even if your meeting was casual, or possibly something more, this place would lose half its charm, without the tall, kind, older man, who took up that space near the back window.

“Well,” you suggested. "you could eat with me. I come here often, and I had a great time. Sure, none of it was planned, but it's not everyday that you meet a stranger you could stand for more than five minutes.”

With affection, he patted your hand. “We’re not - we’re not strangers anymore though.”

“That's true,” you softened. “we're almost friends.”

Again, he seemed at war with himself, lips bitten, hands withdrawn, searching you. “I um - thank you for letting me sit here,” he softened, his smile becoming more solemn. “with you.”

The warm atmosphere of light familiarity and compadre was being pulled back, into its fleshy walls, back inside, until there was nothing, but the awkward silence. If this was his silent rejection, his rebuttal to your forward impertinence, then you would soon regret having ever met him. “You make it sound as though we'll never see each other again.”

“I guess I don't - I don't really see the reason why y-y-you would want to. You're young, and I wouldn't - I wouldn't want you t-t-to waste your time on a-a-a old man like me.”

This did hurt you. Being a grown, independent woman, you knew what it was you wanted. And while it seemed he meant well, it sounded like he wasn't giving himself enough credit. “If at any point I wanted to leave, I would have, but I didn't. You're interesting, and I liked talking to you. Why would you think you're wasting my time?”

“I meant that I- that I-I-I don't see why a bright woman as yourself w-w-would want t-to.”

Your waitress stopped by, left the check, and went back to attend to other matters. You grabbed it before he could have a chance to look at it, and left the right amount of cash. “Rick, I did mean it when I said I'd pay for your meal if you didn't enjoy this. I….it really was nice to finally meet you.”

You didn't bother looking back, or else you were sure your mascara would run. You couldn't believe that you allowed yourself to get more involved then you usually did with your casual flings. Maybe, because you thought he different, that unlike your blind dates, he was worth it. You were about to request an Uber when you heard someone call your name. And like a fool, you turned back to see it was Rick.

“R-Rick?” you sniffled. “How....how did you know my name?”

“I-I-I-I've heard the wait staff t-t-talk about you.”

“Oh.”

“I know it's - it's probably too late, and you'd didn't think that I - but I did enjoy t-t-talking with you. I-I,” he sniffled. “I'm - I'm sorry.”

You knew he wasn't lying, he just wasn't the type. “If you're as much of a genius as I have reason to believe,” you softened. “then what's the probability of when I can see you again?”

He came a little closer, smiling a little. “It ugh - it depends.”

“On what?”

“If y-y-you’d want to.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you reassured. “Rick, I would love to.”

“S-should we go back inside?”

“I think they've probably given away our table by now. Don't worry," you giggled. "there will always be next time. Though, I do have a question, why haven't you tried the chocolate malt?”

“How did - how d-do you know?”

“I didn't see it anywhere on your list.”

With a blush, he whispered. “It's um - it's a funny story, but it's ugh - it's a secret, a-a-about you.”


End file.
